Being a great admirer of this author,it somewhat pains me to have to report that I did not like this book anything like the others.
It is always difficult when the main character,which in this novel is one Annie O'Neill,is so unsympathetic. Not to put too fine a point on it,she is a real pain-in-the-neck. She owns a small second-hand bookshop in Manhattan,and this never seems to have a single customer except those who come in as important people in the story. How the heck does she make a living ? She is a loner,whose parents are both dead,and about who she knows very little. Her only friend is an older man,an ex-army man,who spends most of his time on- the- bottle.
Into her life comes a mysterious old man carrying both letters from her father to her mother and part of a manuscript,which he tells her he will give her a chapter a week to read. This he does and on this manuscript hangs the story.
She then meets a young man with whom she falls violently in love,or should that be lust. These two very different men,the old and the young, have a profound effect on the life of Annie and touch her life so that it can never be the same again.
Having read two of the author's books already,with I might say,great enjoyment,I'm afraid that this one was disappointing. I found both the characters and the story-line unbelievable in the extreme. ( )